2/14/2023 0 Comments Waiting for godot ethan hawke![]() I actually criticized Patrick Stewart in the 2013 Broadway production of the play for going too far with the vaudeville stage business, making Didi seem less like a tramp awkwardly mimicking Chaplin than like Chaplin expertly playing the tramp. But this “Waiting for Godot” IS three hours of gloomy Zooming – the kind of length even Beckett himself increasingly eschewed for his abstruse work the older he got (The best-known after “Waiting for Godot” of Beckett’s 19 plays, “ Happy Days” and “Endgame,” are both about two hours “ Krapp’s Last Tape” is under an hour “Breath,” which he wrote in his sixties, is 35 seconds long.) The New Group production is largely deprived of the comic physicality that made previous versions I’ve seen of “Godot” come alive. I did consciously savor several scenes, and cannot find fault with the acting there is palpable chemistry between the two leads that at peak moments pays off in some delightful back-and-forth. (Luckily – or unluckily? – I could rewind.) This could just be me – a narcoleptic episode, or perhaps bodily rebellion against static viewing, rather than a critical judgment. In theory, I was looking forward to seeing these talented performers in one of the most influential theater pieces of the twentieth century – a groundbreaking experimental work in which (as one Beckett scholar famously put it) “nothing happens, twice.” But it’s just a fact that I fell asleep viewing it, twice. Unfortunately, my mood apparently matches too. ![]() What’s more important, arguably, is the match in moods between the script and the production the designers and videographers work wonders in establishing the anxiety and the gloom. Since Didi and Gogo are no longer traveling through a barren outdoor landscape as in earlier productions, but staying anchored in pandemic lock down, some of the lines from the (unchanged) script make even less sense than usual. In the New Group production, Ethan Hawke and John Leguizamo play the hapless Vladimir and Estragon (nicknamed Didi and Gogo), sometimes in face masks, stuck inside their separate darkened and dilapidated rooms, communicating via a modified Zoom-like platform, while day after day they wait for a third character who (spoiler alert) never shows up. Samuel Beckett initially wrote what he would eventually call his “tragicomedy” after spending the war years in the Resistance in Nazi-occupied France, and at the onset of the age of anxiety over the threat of nuclear annihilation. It must have seemed the exact right time to produce “Waiting for Godot,” the bleak, sardonic, enigmatic play about a pair of scruffy pals trying to stay connected and hopeful during a time of tedium, uncertainty and possible apocalypse.
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